


Master of our Fate

by spikesgirl58



Series: the poetry challenge [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:49:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29557995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: Gibbs ponders his fate.
Series: the poetry challenge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171559
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Master of our Fate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alynwa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/gifts).



Jethro Gibbs watched the raindrop trickle down the window pane and he absently traced it with his finger. He wasn’t sure if he disliked rain more than snow or vice versa. You didn’t have to shovel snow, but you could shake the snow off your coat. Snow was cold, mind numbing cold, killing cold while rain… well, drowning was always a worry.

“Jethro?”

Gibbs looked away from the window and to his friend, Dr. Ducky Mallard. “Yeah, Duck?”

“A penny for your thoughts.”

“You’d be overpaying.” Gibbs sighed and let his hand fall. “I was just trying to decide if snow or rain is more of a pain to deal with.”

“Hmm, I understand we shall be getting both and as the mercury is plunging, I suggest we follow the footsteps of our coworkers and depart. It wouldn’t do to get caught out in that mess.”

Gibbs nodded and grabbed his jacket from the coat tree. “Thanks for the ride home, Duck.”

“My pleasure. I have nowhere else to be besides my empty brownstone. It will be good to have some company. I used to yearn for peace and quiet, now I find myself railing against it.”

“I know what you mean. I complained about Tobias, but it was kinda nice to come home and have someone there.

Ducky reached to punch the elevator key and Gibbs caught his hand. “Let’s do the stairs.”

“The stairs?”

“The way the power has been flickering on and off, I’d rather not chance it.”

It looked for a moment if Ducky was going to argue, then he said, "I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul." At Gibbs’ look, he explained, “ _Invictus_ by William E Henley. It’s one of my favorite poems. We try to master our fate, but who is to say that deviating at that last moment isn’t exactly what is forecast?”

“You’re making my head hurt, Duck.”

“Some bourbon will help that.” He held open the door. “After you, my dear Alphonse.”

Gibbs pulled on his jacket and took one more look at the floor, as if cataloging it for some reason. “I know Henley didn’t write that.”

Ducky laughed, “Shirley Jackson wrote a short story titled that, but it actually hails from a comic strip popular in the 1920’s, _Happy Hooligan._ ”

“You run deep, Duck.”

“You have no idea how right you are, my dear. Greek, tonight?” And the door closed.  
  



End file.
